


As One Journey Ends

by FoxRafer



Category: Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-12-20
Updated: 2011-12-20
Packaged: 2017-10-30 09:46:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,815
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/330387
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FoxRafer/pseuds/FoxRafer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Written for the 2011 <a href="http://lotr-sesa.livejournal.com/"><b>lotr_sesa</b></a> exchange. <a href="http://splix.livejournal.com/"><b>splix</b></a> asked for "something somber, even dark." This is as close as I could get. As seems to be habit for me, once more I mix movie!verse and book!verse, possibly about 50/50.</p>
    </blockquote>





	As One Journey Ends

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the 2011 [**lotr_sesa**](http://lotr-sesa.livejournal.com/) exchange. [**splix**](http://splix.livejournal.com/) asked for "something somber, even dark." This is as close as I could get. As seems to be habit for me, once more I mix movie!verse and book!verse, possibly about 50/50.

Boromir stood at the edge of Parth Galen looking out across the lake to the eastern shore. The day shone clear and bright; the extra chill in the air a pleasant sensation against his skin. He often came here at the breaking of dawn, as shadows played across the Emyn Muil and Tol Brandir had yet to glisten in the sun. But now he arrived as midday approached, listening to memories and the roar of the falls. It was a sound that once left him raw and unsteady but now was a gentle wave in the back of his mind carrying him toward home. These shores and Rauros beyond had been his first step on the road to healing, and he silently gave thanks as he waited for his next journey to begin.

He could bring Aragorn here. For many days he'd thought it a good choice. There were more than painful memories attached to this sward and the ancient hill beside it. He'd long ago detached it from the rending of flesh and the spilling of blood. Now his mind filled only with their last night upon this green.

He'd found his thoughts dominated by the Ring, struggled against the need for it, pushed to maintain his focus. Perhaps sensing - or more likely fearing – this, Aragorn had joined him on the final watch. Tension surrounded them, not only Gollum's presence but a greater malevolence pressing around them heightening their senses. They'd argued just the day before, vehement and cutting, and Boromir's hackles were still raised at what he saw as derision and dismissiveness from the Ranger. Yet what Boromir remembered most from that night was Aragorn's quiet confidence, the steady rhythm of his breath, the barest press of his knee against his own as they sat in silent watch over their companions. They did not speak, their disagreement still burning between them, and yet all these years later Boromir could still feel the warmth and calm that had begun to suffuse his body merely at Aragorn's presence by his side. For those brief moments he'd felt a layer of hope settle over him, temporarily pushing his discordant thoughts into a smaller recess in his mind. Years later, that memory had helped heal his soul.

Yes, he could bring Aragorn here, but would he see this as a font of good memories or as a lake of death and loss? Boromir knelt down by the water's edge, picked a few stones from the icy shallows and rolled them in his hand thinking of how much time it took for him to find peace with this place. These lands might open old wounds for Aragorn, wounds that even now may have only partially healed. _Perhaps Lothlórien or Rivendell would be better,_ he thought, searching the skies to the north. But they would not be the lands of Aragorn's memory, and may yet again cast a somber hue on what Boromir wanted to be sun-filled and light.

The long call of a crane on the opposite shore caught Boromir's attention and he watched it pick its way among the shallows. For a moment it appeared to turn toward him, stretching its wings to their full span as a small gust of wind from the south carried the hint of a familiar presence, his name on still-treasured lips: "Boromir." The time was near; now was not the day for indecision. A destination had to be chosen, and soon.

 

As he approached Cair Andros, Aragorn was moving at a swift pace. His lungs burned, his heart beat heavy in his chest; never before had he felt his advancing years so acutely. Aragorn slowed his steps but did not stop, feeling compelled to push on despite the strain in his muscles and the ache of his joints. He couldn't remember when he'd departed or how he'd managed to leave Minas Tirith on his own without anyone noticing. And strangely enough, he found himself untroubled by this gap in his memory. All he knew, all he cared about, was that he had to reach Boromir, and while his destination was unclear he was nevertheless certain of his path.

A shadow passed over him and he looked up to see two cranes soaring through the clouds, their long necks reaching for the sun. Only then did he stop, shielding his eyes against the glare to keep them in his sight, watching them swoop across the sky. He imagined taking flight, joining them on their journey north, taking wing and finally leaving all earthbound duties aside. He felt lighter, his body relaxing into itself, the pain and exhaustion leaving him. For several minutes he stood there, letting the air rush through him, cleansing him, all the while focused on the arcing path of the birds.

His mind drifted to a long ago memory, beneath Lothlórien's golden canopy. He'd had a similar feeling of relief that day, finally in a place where they could take some genuine rest, where he could release some of the responsibilities that burdened him. Yet he could sense Boromir's continued agitation; being in Galadriel's presence had unnerved him as much as Gimli had been enchanted. So Aragorn sought Boromir's company, inviting him to explore the land and learn more about its people. He remembered those excursions fondly and in great detail, enjoying the camaraderie and the conversation, the deeper sensations that ebbed and flowed between them that both knew could not be acknowledged in those dark times. For years he wished he'd been able to speak of it, to act upon their profound kinship, but instead it had become one of his biggest regrets, a lost opportunity he could never get back.

Aragorn closed his eyes and breathed deeply, pushing back the chagrin that threatened to darken the memory. He knew they had made the right choice for the circumstances they faced, and very soon they would have the chance to choose again. He set off once more, the landscape surrounding him changing before his eyes. The Anduin became the Nimrodel became the Bruinen; the Misty Mountains shifting perspective from the West to the East. Yet none of this unsettled Aragorn. In no time the open grasslands and tree-lined ridges of Hollin stretched before him and he was certain he'd reached his destination even before he saw Boromir standing straight and tall in the late afternoon sun.

 

As soon as Boromir arrived he knew he'd made the right choice. Despite the dangers they faced and the need to stay ever vigilant, Boromir had untroubled memories of the Fellowship's time in Hollin. In retrospect, they had been the last days he and Aragorn had been able to indulge themselves, to imagine what could have been if their lives had aligned along different paths. He told Aragorn things he'd kept private even from Faramir, learned more about Aragorn's life and slowly began to understand the choices he had made. It had been a good time for Boromir, a time he held close to his heart, and he hoped would be significant for Aragorn too.

A slight charge in the air marked Aragorn's arrival, and Boromir turned toward him as he effortlessly climbed up the ridge. To his eyes Aragorn looked as he did all those years ago; no sign of age marked his features or impaired his gait. But unlike during their journey, worry and vigilance were not etched on his face, responsibility and duty did not weigh upon his shoulders. Boromir hoped his appearance was equally carefree and peaceful.

Aragorn quickly closed the distance between them and clasped Boromir's arm. They stood for a moment simply looking at each other, allowing the years of separation to drift away across the plains, making note of how unburdened the other seemed, how comfortable he was in his own skin.

"It's as if I'm seeing you for the first time," Boromir remarked.

"It's the same for me as well," Aragorn replied, then gestured around them. "Eregion was a good choice."

"It seemed appropriate."

"Yes. We shared many things during those days."

Boromir nodded, moving slowly away. "Things became so dark and confused for me shortly after that. For a long time I wondered if my memories were true." He turned back to face Aragorn. "If I was right to consider it unique or special."

"I've relived our travels here more times than I can remember, trying to see if I could have done or said something that might have helped you in your fight against the Ring."

"To be truthful, I think you had both a positive and negative influence on me: I was both drawn to you and angered by you, by the very idea of your presence. It was never easy for me to accept new possibilities, different realities, unlike Faramir. He was a good steward to you. Would always have been a better choice than me."

"I hold Faramir in great esteem, but please, let's not linger on perceived shortcomings for either of us, whether true or not."

Boromir smiled softly. "No, of course. That's not what I want for this meeting. And yet, now that you're here, I find all the words I'd planned to say have escaped me. There is so much unspoken between us."

"It is hard to know how or where to begin. But we have nothing but time now."

"It's not quite that simple, but yes, time is not our enemy." He turned away once more, absently scanning the mountains. "Do you believe in second chances?"

A small pause, then Aragorn's hand on his shoulder, steady and strong. "I do, but I think we both know in this case it's also not that simple."

They shifted to face each other, searching through the fragments of memories they could see in their eyes. As the wind picked up strength, the sun began to sink below the horizon and a flock of cranes came into view, their cries cutting across the plain, breaking their reverie.

"They've come to escort us?" Aragorn asked, his voice slightly hoarse.

"Yes. Do you want more time? Maybe share a few last moments with Arwen? With Eldarion? That is possible."

Aragorn shook his head. "I have spent more than a score of days preparing for this, a fortnight alone with my queen and my children. I'm ready."

Boromir nodded and started to walk on, stopping only when he realized Aragorn wasn't following him.

"Aragorn?"

"I'm glad it was you, that you were the one sent to meet me."

"Faramir was worried if someone else stepped forward I might try and fight them for the honor."

Aragorn laughed then, loud and clear, something Boromir was sure he'd never heard before and wanted to hear more. He wrapped Aragorn in a warm hug, then stepped back smiling. "Shall we begin?"

"Our final journey."

"I think you'll find there will be many more to come."


End file.
